


Who You Really Are

by jujutsu_sorcerer (orphan_account)



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:35:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jujutsu_sorcerer
Summary: “I want to know what happened, Jay.”“What do you mean?”“Who hurt you?”In which Jay is suicidal, unbeknownst to his unit.
Relationships: Jay Halstead/ Hailey Upton, Jay Halstead/Antonio Dawson, Jay Halstead/Hank Voight
Comments: 28
Kudos: 112





	1. Hostage

He felt like dying. 

These past years have almost killed him to begin with, so what difference would it make if he were to die right here, right now? It wouldn’t make Erin come back, and even if she did, it would be too late to have their relationship back. After all, he’d be six feet under. 

Dying doesn’t seem too bad. He wouldn’t have to worry about Voight murdering him over the stupid shit he does on the job, he wouldn’t have to worry about Erin coming back someday with someone else wrapped around her, he wouldn’t have to worry about what Hailey has to say about him constantly, he wouldn’t have to worry about getting tortured to death, he wouldn’t have to worry about having a PTSD attack in front of his unit or on the job, he wouldn’t have to worry about causing Will to have a panic attack every time his younger brother gets rolled into the OR, and he wouldn’t have the desperate feeling to kill himself every night as he stares at the ceiling.

Maybe all the things he’s feeling have something to do with the gun being pointed to his temple, the offender spitting out threats to his team, mostly Voight. He can’t seem to hear what they’re saying, probably from blood loss. However, he can feel the vibrations of their voices in his head, and his splitting headache is getting even worse as the offender, Fred Wilson, bangs the barrel of the gun against his temple constantly. 

“God, man, if you’re gonna shoot me, then shoot me!” 

The vibrations stop after that, and he can feel himself slowly begin to take more even breaths. His vision seems to get less blurry, and he can see everyone staring at him, even the offender. But that doesn’t stop the said man from laughing, his hand that’s gripping onto his hair and pulling his head even harder against the gun. 

“Hear that, Voight?” He snickers, patting Jay’s head harshly. “Your little detective wants me to kill him!” 

Jay snarls, spitting blood onto Wilson’s shoes, his kneeling position helping the attack. “Fuck you. I want you to end this already, this is fucking ridiculous.” 

He wants to go home. He wants to go back to his apartment and sit in his own blood, maybe bleed out while he’s at it. He’ll be damned if he lets some bomber kill him in front of his unit. 

“You little bitch,” he kicks Jay in the stomach, and the younger man can’t help but let out a whine of pain, blood  
spilling out of his mouth and onto the ground in front of him. “Maybe I should take you back to the factory, let my men teach you a lesson.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Jay continues, eyes glancing across to Olinsky on the roof, trying to find a shot. “You think you’re gonna make it out of here?” 

Wilson glares back at S.W.A.T. and the rest of Jay’s team, patting Jay’s head again, kneeling down to whisper in his ear. “If I don’t, you don’t.” 

Voight takes the attention back to himself, “If you shoot him, you’re both leaving in body bags.” 

The offender just laughs, “I have my own team in there, Voight. If I get shot, every single person on this site is leaving in a body bag.” He tugs on Jay’s hair again, getting him to stand up, although he’s very wobbly due to his head injury. “Now, me and this detective here are going to go into the factory. If anything happens to me, I’m not going to be the only one dead, you hear me?” 

Voight glances at Jay, the blue-eyed detective not looking like himself whatsoever. His pale skin looks white, maybe even gray, due to his bleeding head and the Sargent is one hundred percent positive he has a concussion. “How about this,” he starts. 

Wilson laughs, “How about nothing, Voight. I’m not trading pretty boy here for anyone else.”

The said man sighs deeply, giving Jay a promising look he hopes he can see. “All units stand down.” 

Jay could see his unit’s angry faces, and he caught Voight’s look as well. His body is beginning to shut down though, and while he knows he’ll make it the three steps into the factory, he doesn’t know if he’ll make it out. 

Either way, he lets himself be pulled into the building, eyes glancing around at the hostage workers, all held at gunpoint on the third floor. However, he’s the only officer who knows this, seeing as they’re held in a windowless room.

He hopes Olinsky was watching him walk through the factory, at least that way they would know where one of the hostages is being held. However, Jay is more concerned for and focused on the workers. So, he waits until Wilson brings him to the fourth floor, pushing him into a closet with no windows to talk to him. 

“Let the hostages go, Wilson,” he starts, his head throbbing as the man ties him to a pole that goes from the ceiling to the floor, although Jay’s not sure what it’s used for. 

Wilson chuckles, finishing the act of tying Jay’s wrists together being his back. “Stop with that hero talk, detective. How about we talk about your name, huh?” 

The younger man stays silent, glaring at the ground, waiting for something productive to happen. He can hear the sirens of multiple groups of police and medical forces outside, and he knows Voight won’t let anyone stand down until the hostages are safe. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean he himself is going to make it out alive and unharmed. 

The offender grabs Jay’s jaw, forcing the younger to look at him. He does his best anyway, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. Upon listening to the man, he knows the swearing and threats will lead to something bad, but his manhood won’t let him submit to another man. 

Before he can get punched, someone comes in the room, glancing at the two men before talking. “Hank Voight is on the phone.”

Wilson rolls his eyes, standing up and facing the other man in the room. “What does he want?” 

Jay lolls his head back against the wall, trying to stop himself from passing out, but too weak to keep his head up any longer. He’ll probably die in this dusty old factory closet, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

“-icopter and a way out of the country.” 

The detective jumps back into the conversation, catching onto the plan. If Voight gets them a way out of the US, he’ll be forced to let the hostages go in order to get the things he needs. 

The mastermind, Wilson, glances at Jay. “A helicopter isn’t enough. I want that, five hundred thousand dollars, a black SUV with tinted windows, and a guaranteed escape from the country.” He smirks. “I won’t be giving any hostages. This just guarantees I won’t kill everyone on site.” 

Jay now sees the phone in his hand, and he knows it’s Voight in the other line. Desperately, the young man speaks. “Wilson, let the hostages go; as an act of good faith.” 

He glares at Jay, “An act of good faith is me not blowing up this whole property.” 

Voight speaks from the phone, “What do we have to do for you to let the hostages go safely, Wilson?” His gravelly voice brings a sense of security to Jay in an odd way; Voight is still technically trying to save him, although it’s mostly for the hostages. 

Wilson laughs, “Nothing. If I don’t get what I want in the next hour, I’ll start killing hostages.” 

Before Voight can say anything, Wilson hangs up the phone. Jay takes a deep breath, and before the man leaves the room, he speaks. “You know bomb squad is outside, right?”

He turns back to look at Jay, his face emotionless. “And what about it, detective? You think they can defuse my bombs?” He laughs. 

Jay smiles as well, “What if they do? You don’t have any threat after that, now do you? The FBI will stomp this place and kill you and your men before you can even harm a single hostage. So, I suggest you let some hostages go, as a sign Voight can trust you.” 

Wilson sucks in a breath of anger, punching the wall before snatching the phone back from his helper. He calls the number back, and before Voight answers, he speaks. “I have forty hostages right now. I’m going to let the go, and for every ten that leaves, I get one thing on my list.” 

“That’s good. We can do that.” Voight says, staring at the factory. “Let the first ten go, and we can transfer the five hundred thousand dollars to your account.” 

He sighs, shaking his head. “I want the money in cash.”

Voight sighs, “Okay, send the first ten out and you can send someone to get the money from someone in my unit.” “I want the money first.” Wilson states, walking out of the room. Jay sighs, desperately trying to keep himself awake. However, being left with only the man he doesn’t know, he knows nothing will happen to him unless Wilson orders it. So, he lets his eyes close, getting sucked into the darkness.


	2. Voices

“Wake up, pretty boy,” 

Jay’s eyes slowly opened, the harsh hands slapping his cheeks beginning to irritate him. He doesn’t say anything, his brain more than aware of the situation. Looking around the room, he sees three large and scary men standing in front of him, Wilson knelt in front of him, slapping his cheeks. He moves his head slightly, moaning in pain.

“He’s bigger than I thought he’d be,” one of the men say, licking his lips. He notices the others looking at him the same way, and his eyes train back to Wilson’s.

“These men are going to take care of you until I get what I want, okay?” He says evilly, acting like he’s speaking to a child. 

Jay despises the tone in his voice, snarling at him. When his teeth chatter, he looks down, and realizes exactly why the men are looking at him in an inappropriate manner, and Wilson’s words begin to make sense.

His naked body is pale, goosebumps on every millimeter of his skin. As his frightened eyes trail back up to the men, he watches as the one in the middle takes out a pocket knife. His whole body shakes with fear, mind flashing back to the Keyes case, to the war, to anything. 

He tries to back away from the men as they step closer to him, but two of them sit beside him and hold his body in place, the one in charge placing the tip of his knife in the middle of Jay’s chest. 

“Don’t worry detective, this will only hurt for a little while. Besides, we’re gonna take good care of you.” 

With that, he drags the knife from his chest to his bellybutton, leaving a huge cut that causes Jay to cry out in pain. The man doesn’t let the cut dig in too deep, knowing the police are going to want him alive. Besides, his head injury only caused a concussion, and the cuts Wilson gave him in front of the unit weren’t deep enough to cause serious harm either. However, they were aware of the gray skin belonging to the detective. So, they decided to take it easy with the cuts and move on to their next job after a little while. 

Twenty minutes went by, and the man finally put down the knife, adoring the cuts he made all over Jay’s shaking body. The younger man’s eyes were screwed shut, his head leaning back against the wall, small tears sliding down his pale cheeks.

“Don’t cry yet, detective, we haven’t even gotten to the best part.” One of the men beside him whispers in his ear, licking it afterward. 

Jay jumps to the other side in surprise, eyes flashing open. The man in charge closes the closet door and locks it, placing the pocket knife back into his pocket. Jay watches as he unzips his jeans, the sound ripping through his headache.

He begins to shake his head, pushing away from both of the men caressing his arms and legs. “No, no, no, no, no,” he mumbles, tears leaking from his eyes.

The man in charge chuckles, sliding his jeans off, his underwear having the same fate. Jay would fight, and win too, if the men weren’t all so muscular and if his hands weren’t tied behind his back. So, when the two men begin to move around, one placing Jay on his lap, undoing the chain from the pole and holding the metal to his stomach with one hand while the other arm wraps around his neck, holding Jay’s head on his shoulder, Jay can’t fight. The other man pulls Jay’s body so he’s almost laying down and the man sitting behind him bends his legs, lifting Jay‘s bottom half upwards, and Jay can feel his erection. The other man stands next to Jay, his bulge next to his face. Finally, the man in charge spreads Jay’s legs, and the man holding him puts his knees on the inside of Jay’s, keeping his legs from closing. 

“Please don’t,” Jay mutters, trying to cover himself somehow. “Please, I’ll make sure you make it out alive and free, please,” he says that word over and over again, yet all he can feel is the erection of the man below him growing and hardening even more against his back. 

The man in charge wraps his hand around Jay’s manhood, and the younger man bucks back in surprise, his eyes blurry from the tears and concussion. “Don’t beg baby boy, it only makes you sound more desperate for our cocks.”

Voight stands angrily next to Antonio, eyes watching as Hailey hands off the bag of money to one of Wilson’s men, ten hostages walking out after he goes back in the factory. He can’t ask about Jay’s well-being just yet; they’re making major progress in getting out the civilians, who are being transported to Chicago Med in S.W.A.T. vans. 

Antonio glances over at his Sargent, his own mind buzzing with worry over Jay. “He should be okay, right?” 

The older man turns to look the younger in the eyes, his own filled with uncertainty. “He will be.”

One of the men from bomb squad walk over, sighing, his breath turning to fog in the cold air. “My team is ready to breach and locate the bomb, but we still don’t know if it’s on a timer or if it can be activated by someone.” 

The Sargent nods, tongue poking into his cheek. “So we have to cut another deal with Wilson.”

Antonio shakes his head, “We can’t give him anything else. Besides, if we get all the hostages out in time, we can all vacate the area. If he blows up a factory, then he blows up a factory.” 

“We don’t know if he has any more bombs in the surrounding area. He could have more and blow up a whole block.” The bomb squad man says, his hands tied. 

Voight takes out his phone, dialing the factory’s number. After a moment, Wilson picks up.

“What?” 

“I need to make sure the only bomb you have is in that factory if we’re going all the way with this deal.” 

Wilson chuckles over the phone, “It’s the only bomb, Voight. I thought we were supposed to trust each other?”

“We do. How’s my detective?” 

The phone is silent for a moment until cries of pain are heard, laughing and mocking voices following. Wilson speaks, “My men are having fun with him. Where’s my SUV?”

As the Sargent glances at the entrance to the factory, he spots the black SUV pulling in. “It just arrived. Your helicopter is at the city border.” 

Wilson sighs in delight, “Great. Twenty more hostages coming out.” As he says, frightened people come out, being rushed into two S.W.A.T. vans. 

Voight nods his head. “Now, I want my detective back with the other ten hostages.” 

“You got a plan set up for me? No cops, no arrests; I get a clean way out of the country with my men and the helicopter.” 

“Yes.”

“The last ten are coming out.”

Voight’s watches the last escape van pull away, eyes glancing at the three S.W.A.T. vans left. “Where’s my detective, Wilson?” 

He hears a bone chilling snicker over the phone, and he feels himself unconsciously grit his teeth. “My men just finished up with him. We’ll all go out together, huh? Your bomb squad can defuse my bomb while we’re getting out of the country.” 

“Sounds good.” Voight seethes, anger burning in his stomach. 

With that, the phone call ends. 

Jay can feel his whole body scream in pain, his lower half aching with a throbbing, dull yet sharp pain. The three men stand up, getting dressed after each having their fun with him. The man in charge picks up a rather large bucket, and after a moment, Jay feels immense frost covering his skin. 

“Just has to clean you up, you were a little bloody,” he snickers, grabbing Jay’s underwear and dressing the younger himself. 

The detective couldn’t even say anything, his head starting to fog over, just like his breath in the air. Another man slides his jeans back on his body, the water causing his cuts to sting and the harsh texture of his jeans not doing much to help that aspect. 

The man in charge pulls him to his feet, undoing his chained up hands. However, Jay doesn’t even fight, even with his body screaming in pain at the hands touching him. His shoes and socks are left behind as they begin to drag him out of the factory, a proud Fred Wilson standing beside him. 

“I hope you had fun.”

Jay let’s himself close his eyes at the statement, everything to foggy and painful right now. He hears the sound of Voight’s voice once he steps outside; he can tell he’s outside by the sudden drop in temperature, and he’s sure everyone can see his breath now. 

His head drops, and before he can fully fall to the ground, the man holding him grabs his waist, sighing his finger into one of Jay’s cuts. The younger male cries at the sudden pain, trying to flinch away from the man that he’s sure will be in his nightmares if he doesn’t decide to end it all today. 

It’s all a blur when he feels familiar calloused hands on his torso, another set along with the first as well. Upon hearing two familiar voices, Dawson and Voight, he knows it’s them carrying him to wherever they want him, his eyes too heavy to open. 

“It’s okay, Jay, you’re safe now.” Antonio’s voice is soothing in his ear, but he can’t help it when his mind flashes back to the stranger licking the same ear. On reflex, he flinches away from his friend, his arms pushing against them, teary red eyes now suddenly open and scared. 

Antonio feels tears come to his own eyes at the sight of his tough friend falling apart in front of him, the strong facade Jay plays for them breaking suddenly. Voight tries to calm Jay down, but the more he talks and reaches for the young detective, the more he cries and pushes everyone away. 

“Jay, stop!” Hailey yells, the only one being able to speak when Jay snatches the gun from Voight’s holster. 

He pays no attention to his partner, backing up to where no one is behind him. The unit is the only group close enough to him for him to even hear them, the other responders being forced to back away. 

Adam slowly inches closer to Jay, not feeling fazed by the gun being pointed at him. “Hey, Jay, it’s Adam; Adam Ruzek. We’re buddies, remember?” 

“Back up,” Jay mumbles, cocking the gun. 

The detective stops moving, refusing to back away from the man who he calls a friend. Hailey takes a chance and puts her hands down, approaching Jay at a steady pace. 

“Jay, it’s us. We’re not going to hurt you.” 

He doesn’t remove the gun from Adam’s general direction, the man being closer to him than Hailey, but his eyes trail over to hers. 

Antonio is the next to speak, staying in his position. “You need medical attention, Jay. You’re going to die if we don’t.”

Jay gulps at that. “So what?” 

Hailey steps closer to Jay, close enough to grab his shoulder. “Give me the gun.” She knows the look on his face; he wouldn’t hurt any of the people surrounding him, no matter what. 

However, he flinched away from her touch, backing away from her. “B-Back up!” 

Voight knows his detective is delirious from the obvious concussion, and the major blood loss and torture aren’t helping. “Put the gun down, kid. We need to get you to Med.” He walks right up to Jay, snatching his gun back from the younger man’s hand, tossing it to Antonio. He grabs Jays shoulder, wrapping his arm around his neck. 

Jay is too tired to fight, letting his eyes close as he listens to Voight’s voice guide him into relaxation.


	3. Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’ve decided that I’m going to post every day, excluding Saturday and Sunday. Every day there’ll be a new chapter, but I’m taking the weekends to myself! 
> 
> I love the support I’m seeing so far, and I’ve taken the comments to heart and explained the hostage situation at the beginning of this chapter! 
> 
> I love you all, happy reading! 
> 
> ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Antonio sighs in frustration as he paces back and forth in the waiting room. The rest of the team is sitting in the chairs, all looking as frustrated as he is. It’s been three hours and they still can’t see Jay. Two hours ago, the bomb was defused and they were able to get Wilson and his goons in custody. 

As the detective thinks back to this morning, he can’t forgive himself for letting Jay get taken by Wilson. They had just arrived on the scene after following a lead, locating Wilson, the same man who had killed his targets in a cafe bombing. Knowing he planted a bomb in the factory and that he had hostages, the Intelligence Unit couldn’t enter the building. So, they got him to leave the building to talk. After about ten seconds, his other men were firing at them from the roof, and when they looked back at Wilson, Jay was on his knees with a gun to his head. They all watched, unable to do anything, as Wilson made threats to kill everyone on the scene while cutting Jay’s face and torso in a psychotic rage.

Now, they’re here, waiting to see how he’s doing. 

Doctor Rhodes walks up to them, his clipboard tucked under his arm. “He’s stable,” he starts, sighing. “He has hypothermia from the cold water and frigid temperature combination, but we were able to get his body back to a safe temp. He has a third degree concussion, which caused his confusion and his inability to understand who you were at the scene.” Pausing, he directs his attention to Voight. “Some of the cuts needed stitches, but they’ll heal over fine. However, the cut from his chest to his stomach will most likely scar, as well as some others. Two of his ribs are cracked, and he has bruising on his torso.” Stopping, he glances around at the unit, eyes sorrowful, but hopeful. “Jay should make a full recovery.”

Voight nods, not looking back at the unit as he pulls Doctor Rhodes to the hall. “What about his PTSD?” 

The doctor sighs, “He hasn’t woken up yet, so we aren’t sure if his panic attack on the scene was because of the concussion or that along with PTSD.” He pauses before dropping his clipboard to his side. “Has he spoken to someone about it?” 

The Sargent sighs, “He’s seemed odd lately. I thought he was just having nightmares again, but before I could talk to him this case popped up and I couldn’t let this case end badly.”

“I suggest you talk to him when he wakes up, because from what I heard, his PTSD is at it’s peak right now. I may not be a psychiatrist, but I’ve seen some things, and him being cut up like meat isn’t going to help his case.” Doctor Rhodes walks away, checking on another patient as Voight rubs his face in frustration.

As he walks back over to the rest of the unit, he can see their annoyed faces glaring at him. 

“What did you talk about?” Hailey is the first to speak, crossing her arms, demanding an answer from her boss. 

Voight ignores her, putting his hands in his front pockets, knowing nothing he can say will make her calm. He doesn’t miss Antonio’s disappointed face as he glances across his unit, but he knows what he and Doctor Rhodes spoke about should only be between himself and Jay, and probably a therapist. 

Adam clears his throat in a sarcastic manner. “This is where you explain what’s going on.” Kim gives him a pointed look, gesturing for him to shut up even though they all know she’s just as annoyed with the whole situation as he is. “No, we deserve an explanation. What the hell was that back at the factory? He didn’t even know who we were!”

Kevin pats Adam’s shoulder, shaking his head, noticing Voight’s anger boiling over. “Let it go, man.”

They all sit in silence, and while some are angry with Voight for not explaining what was happening, they all felt one emotion equally; sadness. Someone they’ve known for a long time and care about immensely is stuck in a hospital, a place he hates being in. Everyone has a gut feeling it’s his PTSD again, but no one has the voice to say it. Not even Voight. 

Voight and Jay have a rocky relationship, it’s always been that way, and it’ll probably never change. They’ll never be able to sit down and have lunch together by themselves, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have each other’s backs. The Sargent can name multiple times in which Jay did something against his rules, went behind his back, and screwed him over. However, he can also name times when Jay saved him and the people he cares about, did the right thing at the right time, and when Jay was stronger than he could ever be. He knows he would never kick Jay out of the unit, no matter how many threats he makes about it. The detective is an essential piece to making the team work, and he would be lying if he said he doesn’t need him. 

“What the hell happened?”

So, when Will comes barreling into the waiting room, Voight isn’t quite sure how to say it’s his fault Jay was injured.

“Will,” Hailey mutters, looking a little surprised. She hadn’t expected him to come to them about Jay’s condition, guessing he would talk to Rhodes about him. “It was just a bust gone bad.”

The older brother of the poor man let’s out a breath of shock. “Just a bust gone bad?” He laughs sarcastically, “Have you seen him? I mean really seen him.”

Adam has half the mind to say, ‘Yeah, we did, but apparently he didn’t see us because he had no idea who we were.’ He doesn’t though, knowing it’ll only cause more problems than they started with. The concussion can’t be the only cause to Jay’s delirious scene, he knows that much. 

Voight sighs, “Will, Rhodes said Jay will make a full recovery. We’re all worried about him, but he’ll be fine.” 

“Of course, Sargent Voight coming in with the peaceful words. It’s really funny how you put my brother in immediate danger but don’t take any responsibility for it.” Will seethes, staring Voight down. 

Before anyone can start arguing though, Rhodes appears once again, breaking up the two with two simple words. 

“He’s awake.”


	4. Brotherhood

Will was the first to barge into Jay’s room, followed by Hailey and Voight. Rhodes normally would have told the unit it was family only, but he knows Will is the only blood family Jay has left, and he’d be damned if he were the one to stop Jay’s non-blood family from seeing him. Apparently Voight had told everyone to stay behind until Will was comfortable with everyone seeing his younger brother, but Hailey couldn’t wait. Voight wasn't about to let what he assumes are the two most important people in Jay’s life to be alone while he’s unconscious and vulnerable. 

“Jesus,” Will mutters after a few minutes of silence. He wasn’t very keen on letting Voight into the room so soon, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Jay to make him leave. 

There he was, his little brother, beat and cut up due to Voight’s incompetence once again; at least, that’s what he thinks. He knows about Jay’s rocky relationship with the Sargent, but Voight and Will might as well be Tom & Jerry. Will can’t count the amount of times he’s had to yell at Voight to keep his brother safe. Somehow, the young man, who hates hospitals, always finds himself in one. The older Halstead can’t help but blame Hank Voight. 

Hailey grabs onto Jay’s hand, biting her lip nervously. “He’s out of the woods, at least.” 

Will scoffs, “Yeah, sure. But he shouldn’t have been in the woods in the first place.” He rubs his face, sighing. “He didn’t even get hurt undercover! This was a bust that shouldn’t have resulted in him getting hurt! It was a fucking hostage situation! So, Voight,” he turns to the older man who is also heated, but refuses to go off on the young doctor. “You failed to protect him when he was right next to you! How are you going to protect him when he goes undercover again?” He pauses, “That is, if he goes undercover again. I don’t even think he should be working in your unit anymore, if I’m being completely honest.”

Hailey gapes at the statement, “Will- I- What?” 

Voight has a certain look his face; annoyed, and maybe a little surprised. “In case you forgot, Jay begged Antonio to get into this unit. He took a bullet that was meant for his sister in order to prove he had what it takes to be a part of my unit! So don’t stand there and tell me he isn’t where he belongs, because you know Jay would smack you back to Canaryville if he heard what you just said.” 

His voice got louder as he went on, and Will can’t help but chuckle, not believing Voight’s words. Luckily, the rest of the unit piling into the room freed anyone of more drama, but Hailey let Will’s words sink in. 

She knows if Will wants Jay out of the unit, he was either going to get what he wanted, or Jay was going to lose his brother.

After about two hours, the unit begins to file out of the room one by one, leaving Will and Hailey. He had told her she could stay the night if she wanted to; he didn’t have any problems with her, he had said. However, she’s Jay’s partner, the real one who is supposed to protect him while on the job, not Voight. So Hailey doesn’t quite understand where the anger to Voight comes from, but it’s most likely something that happened before she came to Intelligence, she suspects. 

Though, even with Will’s offer, she decided to leave somewhere around 9:30PM, deciding that maybe Will needs some alone time with his little brother. So, the older Halstead sat by his brother’s bedside, rubbing his face in frustration. He knew this would send Jay back a couple steps with his PTSD, which has been pretty much a confirmed diagnosis after what occurred on the scene. 

“W-Will-“ 

The said man sprung up from his seat, standing over Jay and obnoxiously making sure he was okay. After a few sips of water, Jay glanced back up at his older brother. He was smiling, probably relieved, while he was actually blind to the fact he was staring down at a rape victim with his signature relieved older brother face. 

Jay could feel his body begin to fade in and out of pain, and Will seemed to notice, pressing the button for more morphine. The younger’s mind however was much worse than his body. He could still feel their hands on his body, hitting him and making him shut up, and the taste of their fingers and other body parts in his mouth was still prominent. 

Will probably doesn’t know everything that happened, Jay thinks. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be staring at him with that annoying facial expression. 

“What happened?” He played safe, not wanting to reveal anything until he knew everything they knew. 

As Will goes over his injuries, Jay tunes him out, waiting to hear a certain injury. After a few minutes of Will explaining his injuries and healing times, he feels relief flood through his sore body as he realizes they don’t truly know everything that went down in that factory.

And he was planning to keep it that way.


End file.
